Enough

Retirement has been a mish mash of not being able to let go. Feet stuck in the mud of an inability to say no, a fear of being alone and the inner drive of the seeking of enough. The haunting of my childhood where you were never good enough, endlessly driven by the fear of parents looking simply to survive compounded into an endless drive for more. Being labelled as “having potential” yet never seeming to actually blossom into anything other than a thorn.

Yet perhaps some of the most important developments in life occur while pursuing something entirely different. Perhaps purpose emerges while being useful. Perhaps contentment emerges while contributing. Perhaps understanding emerges while living. Perhaps answers emerge while asking better questions rather than demanding immediate solutions.

Perhaps that is what I am searching for as well. Not a destination. A direction. The walkabout was never really about fishing. It was never really about timber. It was never really about escaping home. Those things merely provided acceptable explanations for a deeper need I could not adequately describe. Somewhere beneath the surface I was searching for permission to ask questions without demanding immediate answers. I was searching for a place where uncertainty was allowed to exist without being treated as a problem requiring urgent correction.

Talking while doing has always felt safer than talking while sitting still, because stillness tends to create space for honesty, and honesty can be an inconvenient travelling companion.

Over time, I have come to believe that knowing when to say I don’t know is one of the clearest signs of genuine competence rather than weakness. I don’t know, but I know who might. I don’t know enough about this to advise. That sits outside my area of expertise. Those are not admissions of failure. They are declarations of discipline, personal honesty, and respect for consequences. There is wisdom in recognising boundaries, particularly when others may assume your previous competence in unrelated matters somehow entitles you to certainty everywhere else.

Neither building is there anymore, just grassy areas assumed by the golf course, and fading in the memory of those who wandered the streets of our youth.

One thing, if you have been to the western plains of this great land, you will encounter is a magnificent sunset and tonight Mother Nature is turning on quite a show. Even from our fishing spot on the river with the bank and the trees filtering the view, the orange ochres build and crescendo across the landscape.

The afternoon whiles away. There is the odd bite, a twitch of a line enough to keep people enthused into staying for just a little while longer to break up the monotony. I continually text the audience of the fishing trip, sledging my fishing partner for assisting in the loss of the big carp, but also regaling his efforts in now being a cod fisherman.

Perhaps that is why places like this possess such power. Not because they solve problems. Not because they remove stress. Not because they magically banish depression. They simply create enough distance for perspective to return. The river does not change my circumstances. The creek does not eliminate responsibility. The fish do not solve existential questions. Yet they slow everything down enough that I can finally see beyond the walls. Sometimes that may be all that is required.

Looking back, I suspect most people who marry or partner into close families eventually discover the same thing. The terrifying examination they imagined was never actually taking place. The judges they feared were mostly spectators. The barriers they believed existed were often little more than shadows cast by uncertainty. The acceptance they sought was available long before they realised it. Their greatest obstacle was rarely the family itself but their perception of it.

So where did this week end? It ended beside a river. It ended amongst family. It ended with laughter. It ended with fish, timber, stories, and memories. Most importantly, it ended with a man who finally understands that winning was never the problem. Learning how to live with the victory was.